


Closer

by Angela, Lisafer



Series: '80s Teen Movie Series [2]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Collaboration, First Time, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Romance, Side Story, The Second-Breakfast Club
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-10-21
Packaged: 2018-02-11 21:38:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2084094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angela/pseuds/Angela, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lisafer/pseuds/Lisafer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in the same (alternate) universe as The Second-Breakfast Club, this is bit of a bigger glimpse into what's going on with Legolas and Gimli after their post-prom argument and reconciliation.  An afternoon in the life of two smitten high school boys. (schmoopiness ahoy!)</p><p> </p><p>(ETA: this has gone from being written just by Lisafer; Angela stepped in when it was decided that more chapters needed to be added on. :P You'll notice the rating also went up...)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Your father is out?” Legolas asked nervously, following Gimli into his small bedroom. They had already said hello to his mother downstairs as she tinkered over a desk covered with various kinds of beads and stones. Gimli explained that she liked to make jewelry as a hobby, and recently began to sell them on an online Etsy store.

“He works late,” Gimli said. “You don't rise to the top of a massive corporation without putting in eighty hours a week.” He closed the door and turned on the music – loud, clean progressive rock with an alternating time signature. “Do you like Rush?” he asked, a trace of nervousness in his voice.

Legolas shrugged. He'd never really found a type music he didn't like.

Gimli turned it down a tad while Legolas looked around him. They were in an attic room, with wooden floors and a sloped ceiling on one side. Clothes lay in piles around the perimeter of the room, and a package of oil pastels sat open on a sketchbook in the middle of the floor. Posters and magazine clippings filled the wall; above his head they had been formed into a wildly colorful collage, and a mobile made of origami animals hung from the light fixture in the middle of the ceiling. The furniture in the room was low and small, and Legolas suspected that some of it had been around since Gimli was a toddler. The ashtray and the bong on the nightstand were probably more recent developments.

“Your parents don't come up here much?” Legolas asked, nodding toward the nightstand.

“Nyah. Their room is downstairs, and over time the upstairs became totally mine. My old playroom eventually got turned into an art studio of sorts.”

“Pretty cool,” Legolas said. He stepped closer to Gimli – easy to do in so small a space – and hooked his fingers through his belt loops, pulling his body against him. “They're not worried about you bringing some strange guy up here?”

“Doubt it.” Gimli's face turned up to him and their lips brushed against each other. “They pretty much let me do my own thing, so long as I pay the price for any rules I break.”

“How many rules do you plan on breaking right now?”

“God, you're such a flirt.”

Legolas grinned and stopped with the niceties. His mouth closed possessively over Gimli's, and he pushed him toward the bed. Gimli wasn't the sort to simply go willingly, though. He pushed back, repositioning them so that when they fell onto the unmade bed – soft, much softer than Legolas would have expected – he was on top. His weight was a comfort to Legolas. He was as heavy as Glorfindel, though built in a completely different way; Glorfindel was well over six-feet tall, whereas Gimli would likely never see that particular benchmark.

He didn't kiss like Glorfindel, either. There was no suaveness, no planned perfection in a kiss from Gimli Glóinsson. His mouth was like a force of nature, battling for control. He tasted sweet – like one of those fruity drinks he preferred. Legolas yanked him even closer, so Gimli was practically lying on top of him. Their hips were pressed together, and Legolas's breath caught in his throat.

Gimli moved slightly – just enough for a delicious thrill of pleasure to rush through Legolas's groin. He groaned against Gimli's mouth and began tugging at the hem of his t-shirt. Gimli raised himself off of Legolas and pulled at the shirt, as well. “You too,” he said, his voice low and shaky.

The tremor reminded Legolas that this was all new to Gimli. Other than making out in the school library, and some kisses shared the week before, this was new territory. Gimli hadn't had a boyfriend before. Or even a girlfriend.

He quickly removed the shirt, with some help from Gimli. And then he got to work on his own. Within a moment they were back to kissing, this time with their bare skin rubbing, teasing and tormenting them. Legolas slid his fingers up and down the smooth, soft skin of Gimli's side and back, and moved his lips toward his neck. Gimli made a noise – half moan and half growl – and one hand moved down Legolas's ribs to rest near his stomach. His hand was hot; blunt-nailed fingertips dragged across sensitive skin. And Legolas bucked closer, needing Gimli. Needing everything.

Hands and lips and tongues explored every bit of exposed skin while Geddy Lee's vocals switched from a high-pitched, fast-paced song to something a little smoother and even more pleasant to Legolas's ears. He reveled in the giddiness of it all – he was here, in Gimli's room, making out with him. And happy – happier than he'd been in a long time, even before his breakup. He'd worried, just a bit, that maybe this was a rebound. But the fact of the matter was that he was already completely gone on Gimli. Rebounds were just quick flings to make him feel better, but he wasn't doing this just for himself. He was just as interested in making sure Gimli felt good – really, really good – too. He reached for the fly of Gimli's jeans, eager to show him what he'd been missing.

Gimli pulled back suddenly, breathless. He stared at the sloped ceiling for a moment, before turning his head to gaze at Legolas. “We haven't taken our shoes off, I've never done this before, and my mom's downstairs and I don't even have any condoms!”

Legolas couldn't help but laugh, even though it clearly left Gimli feeling unhappy. He propped himself up on one arm, looking down at him. “We can take our shoes off,” he said. “Or leave them on, and stop where we are. If you want. Not every road leads to sex, you know.” He wished the rest of his body felt that way.

Gimli nodded. “Yeah. Okay.” 

They lay there silently, their rasping breath calming as Legolas played with the fingers of Gimli's left hand. His hands were shorter than Legolas's, but much wider, with strong fingers. These were hands that could control fine brush strokes or bend heated metal. Legolas's weren't good for much, except for Judo – finding ways to twist people into positions that could make them cry. He'd never made something more complex than a backdrop for one of Tauriel's musicals.

“I'm... I'm not irresponsible,” Gimli said suddenly, turning his head toward Legolas. They were sharing the same large pillow, their noses less than an inch from each other.

“What do you mean?”

Gimli averted his gaze. He was kind of shy at times, Legolas had realized over the last few weeks. It was cute.

“When we met up at prom. I knew there was a chance of, well, things happening. Between us. I just want you to know that I went in prepared. I wasn't counting on you to have condoms or anything like that.”

Legolas propped himself up on one elbow, leaning over Gimli. “So... you do have condoms?”

“Not anymore.”

“Oh.” Did that mean that Gimli had used them? With someone else? 

“I came home and drank more and got stoned and,” here Gimli flushed sheepishly. “I used them for art.”

Legolas laughed with relief, falling back against the bed. “Only you, Gim,” he said, taking his hand again. “Can I see it?”

They climbed out of bed and Legolas followed Gimli out of the room. “Really I've turned the whole upstairs into a studio,” he said, gesturing at the random canvases and supplies that rested against the walls of the upstairs hallway. “Mom and Dad don't seem to care. But this room gets the best light.”

He led Legolas into a corner room with both dormer windows that opened to the front of the house, and a bank of windows opening to the east. It was easy to imagine what this place would look like on a Sunday morning, when Gimli had all day to work on his projects. Various easels were set up, and a drafting table was covered with sketches. It was a bit of a mess – paint- and glue-covered drop cloths had been pushed into various piles, and the place smelled of turpentine. Legolas wrinkled his nose reflexively. 

“I've been working in oils a lot lately,” he explained. He moved a tray of mason jars filled with paint thinner to a window seat, and opened the window to air out the room a bit.

“It's not so bad when you're used to it,” he said.

“Or the other stuff you put in your system,” Legolas added with a smirk. 

“Yeah.” Gimli shrugged and stepped over to a number of canvases leaning against a wall and began flipping through. He finally pulled one out. It was an angry-looking piece, with thick strokes of paint arranged abstractly. Objects were sealed into the painting – a ripped up ticket stub, several foil condom wrappers, the ripped flimsy cardboard from a pack of gum Tauriel had shared with him that evening. And broken bits of condoms, of course.

“This is a bit of a mess,” Legolas said, reaching out to touch it. Gimli smacked his hand away. “God, you were furious, weren't you?”

Gimli nodded. “Well, we both were. But that's all over now, right?”

They had worked through it during detention. It had been one of the best and worst days Legolas could ever remember having – the misery of confusion, the frustration with the realization that Gimli had given up on him before something had even really begun. And of course, the elation of figuring it all out and spending time together like a normal couple. 

“It's definitely over,” Legolas said, taking Gimli by the wrists and tugging him toward him. “And I'll do my best not to let you feel that way again. Or let you waste perfectly good condoms when they could be used otherwise.”

“And what did you have planned for that night?” Gimli asked boldly, looking up at Legolas and leaning into him.

“Oh, you know... just thought I'd show you the ropes.”

“Ropes? Didn't realize you were into that,” Gimli answered with a mischievous smirk. 

“I'm into you,” Legolas replied, pushing Gimli's back against the wall before covering his mouth in a deep, long kiss. “You know,” he murmured against Gimli's lips. “There's a convenience store that's about a mile away. We could go buy—”

“Yeah,” Gimli agreed breathlessly, before he could finish making the suggestion. “I think we should, you know, just in case.” Even as he said it, his hands slid down Legolas's back, and his fingertips slipped under the waistband of his jeans. 

“Preferably sooner than later,” Legolas said, his voice strained. He backed away from Gimli, smiling apologetically. “We don't need you to be sexually frustrated just because I'm that damned irresistible.”

Gimli gave a short bark of laughter. “Good call,” he said, grinning up at Legolas. “Let's get our clothes.” He led the way out of the studio and back into his dark bedroom and grabbed both shirts from the floor. “Here,” he said, tossing one over to Legolas.

Getting dressed was always the awkward part, Legolas thought. And it was especially awkward when there wasn't even sex involved. “Do you wanna grab something to eat while we're out?” he asked, trying to sound casual. “Or should we come right back?”

“Oh, we're coming back here,” Gimli said, his mouth twisting up slyly. He turned off his stereo and grabbed his keys. “Mom's going out to dinner with Kíli's mom tonight. She won't be back until ten at least, and Dad usually doesn't get home from the office until nine.”

Legolas let out the breath of air he hadn't realized he'd been holding. “Sounds good,” he said, dropping a light kiss on Gimli's forehead. Food could most definitely wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Closer" in this section is a reference to Rush's "Closer to the Heart", the song I imagine they're making out to. ;)


	2. Closer to Fine

The bell rang with a jangle as a wave of air-conditioned bliss washed over them. Legolas tucked the helmet Gimli had lent him more snugly under his arm, wondering what the sticky heat of it had done to his hair. He probably didn't want to know.

Gimli looked no worse for the wear. If anything, the sweat made the curls around his face – the few that straggled free from his tight braid – look even better. Darker. Smoother. And he looked kind of bad ass with his helmet and leather jacket. Legolas had never been with a guy who owned a motorcycle. It definitely had its appeal.

Wasting no time, Gimli made a beeline for the aisle marked _Feminine Care_ , not even looking up as the guy behind the counter threw out a halfhearted welcome. Legolas glanced at the cashier, but the guy didn't even lift his head from the magazine he was reading. Just as well. Legolas wanted to get in, get out, and get back to Gimli's as soon as possible. They didn't need to chitchat with the part-timers.

The fluorescent light of the drug store reflected off every shiny surface in the place, including the metallic labels on the boxes of condoms that Gimli held in each hand. “Which are best?” he asked, frowning slightly at the packaging.

Best? “Whichever one you want,” Legolas said. He knew it wasn't helpful, but seriously, what did it matter? Condoms were condoms. It wasn't like they had to worry about getting pregnant. He glanced over his shoulder. A middle-aged woman was looking at tampons on the far end of the aisle. Was it just his imagination, or was she watching them from the corner of her eye?

“Says they're both 99.4% effective, if used properly. But this one says 'ribbed for her pleasure.'” he raised his eyebrows. “Does that satisfy _his_ pleasure, too, or is it just a vagina-thing?”

What the hell did Gimli think he knew about vaginas? “They're fine,” Legolas said impatiently. “Just grab one and we can go.” To tell the truth, he'd never purchased a single condom in his life, though he didn't want Gimli to figure that out. Not that they weren't a good thing to have, especially if your partner wasn't particularly safety conscious – not at all the problem with his new boyfriend, it seemed. It was just that Glorfindel always had one when they needed it. And before that – well, he'd been tested.

And now that he was here, actually buying the damn things, he didn't think he liked it one bit. For the first time in his life he thought that Tauriel had it easy; she'd just gone to the doctor and gotten a prescription for pills. Clinical. Easy. Admittedly, not very effective against STIs; he suddenly hoped Kíli was as safety-minded as his cousin.

“What about lubricant?” Gimli was asking, narrowing his eyes at the tiny bottles. “The condom box says it should be water-based.”

When Legolas didn't answer, Gimli looked at him incredulously. “Coming here was your idea, remember? We're doing this right, Legs. ”

“Sure. Whatever you want,” Legolas said tightly. “Come _on_.” He was terrified of that awkward moment at the counter when the clerk would give that smug expression that said _I know exactly what you're doing tonight_. And looking at them as if he thought they were young and stupid, or gay and pretty, or god only knew what else. He just wanted to get this whole ordeal over with.

Gimli didn't seem to care, though. He'd strode into the store and down the aisle full of tampons and pregnancy tests and KY jelly with as much confidence as he had walking down the halls of Minas Tirith High School. Legolas wondered if he ever felt self-conscious. Had he been nervous when he bought the condoms for prom night? Or had they been given to him, along with the alcohol Kíli had plied him with?

It seemed that Legolas's testy mood was rubbing off on Gimli. He didn't ask him any more questions, going back to reading the labels on the lube bottles. Something roiled in the pit of Legolas's stomach. Leave it to him to screw this up, too. In their silence, he tried to identify the song playing over the store's speakers. Indigo Girls, certainly. “Closer to Fine”? He didn't know them so well, but it sounded like that's what they were saying. He thought he and Gimli had been getting closer to _something_ , but now he felt like a jerk for being uncomfortable and Gimli probably thought he was way more careless than he really was. 

“We should probably take some snacks to Frodo.” The voice came from several aisles away, but it was unmistakable. Pippin Took. Legolas glanced over the tops of the aisles, but of course, Pippin was too short to be seen.

"Just go ahead and get whatever," he told Gimli. “I'm going to grab some snacks.” He left his boyfriend to the intensive label-reading and walked over to the rows of potato chips and cookies. Pippin was there, as expected, arms loaded with bags of junk food while Merry added more to the pile.

"Where are Frodo and Sam? Don't you four travel in a pack?" Legolas asked, leaning against one of the shelves and crossing his arms.

Pippin waved an awkward _hello_ from beneath his sweet and salty mountain, and Merry grinned. "Frodo's studying for finals. Doesn't really seem to understand that you don't study for finals, since you either know it or you don't." He shook his head, clearly disappointed in his friend.

"And Sam, well," Pippin shrugged. "He's been spending all his time with his _girlfriend_." The way he said it somehow sounded halfway between taunting and envious.

"Can't really blame him," Merry added. "She's certainly better-looking than any of us. But what are you doing here?" He cocked his head and looked at Legolas curiously. “Fredegar Bolger said that the whole senior class was doing some kind of graduation dinner-thing tonight.”

Legolas blinked. Was that tonight? Gimli had asked him to come over and everything else just sort of disappeared from his mind."No one really goes to those things,” he said dismissively, hoping that this wasn't the one event his father decided to show up to. He also hoped that Tauriel wasn't too pissed that he'd abandoned her. “I was just grabbing something to eat." He snagged a bag of powdered donuts from the shelf opposite him.

"Is that your motorcycle outside?" Pippin asked, nodding at the helmet Legolas carried.

Before Legolas could answer, Gimli came striding down the aisle, holding up a package of strawberry-flavored condoms. “What do you think of these?” he asked. “You like strawberry, right?”

His heart leaped in his chest and heat pooled – well, other places. Legolas shifted self-consciously, suddenly very aware of how those would be used. And how soon, if they could just get out of there. His eyes met Gimli's and he saw the same eagerness reflected back at him.

“Oh, my.” Pippin's exclamation was barely that – more of an involuntary breath than a comment at all. Legolas glanced back at him just in time to see Merry – whose face was suddenly the same shade as the image of the strawberry on the box – give him an admonishing look.

So neither of them had managed to miss the writing on the condom box. It figured. Legolas fought to get his thoughts straight. "It's Gimli's," he said weakly. “The bike, I mean.” 

"I suppose you'll want to get off, then – I mean, be off - er - leave." Merry looked stricken, his face flushing an even deeper color. Pippin snickered. “Enjoy your snack,” Merry tried again. “Shit,” he cursed suddenly. “The donuts!” His voice was getting desperate. “I was talking about the donuts!”

Legolas was just wishing he would sink into the earth when Gimli burst out laughing beside him. For an instant he was incredulous – nothing seemed to unnerve him – but when he looked at his boyfriend he was taken by the genuine merriment in his face. Gimli put a hand on Merry's shoulder and squeezed. “Only you, Merry!” he said, still chuckling. “The things that come out of your mouth.”

Beside him, Pippin twitched. A mischievous smirk twisted his lips. “Ah, but I'm sure that's nothing compared to what will being going into yours,” he said as though he couldn't help himself.

The shocked silence lasted less than a heartbeat. This time it was Legolas who laughed first. After all, had it been Tauriel, he would have expected no less. Gimli leaned against him as he laughed, his thigh pressing hot against Legolas's, and the blond realized it was high time they headed out.

"Come on," he said to Gimli, “We should go.”

They said goodbye to their friends and headed toward the counter. "Do you want something to drink?" he asked, a bright sign for various flavors of Fanta catching his eye. But then he stopped short, and not because he was planning to head to the cooler. He had just gotten a better look at the clerk at the counter.

Éomer Éadig.

Legolas swallowed thickly. It wasn't like Éomer didn't know they were together. Hell, he was pretty sure that half the junior and senior classes assumed he and Gimli had done this on prom night. But assuming and knowing were vastly different things, and Éomer was the last guy on earth Legolas wanted to know anything about his sex life.

Gimli didn't seem to care, though. Of course. 

He sauntered up to the counter and dropped the items – two different types of condoms and a fairly impressive sized bottle of lube – in front of Éomer. Plucking the donuts from Legolas's hand, he set them down, as well.

"Thank you for shopping at King's," Éomer said in a dull voice, not even looking up. "Hope you found everything you were looking for."

"Can I also get a pack of Old Tobys?" Gimli asked, and Éomer's eyes shot up in recognition. 

And his smile was genuine. "Have you got ID for that, Glóinsson?" he asked. "Can't sell cigarettes to you if you're not legal."

Gimli rolled his eyes and pulled out his wallet. "Turned eighteen two months ago, asshole." His words were softened by the grin on his face.

But Éomer made a big production of scrutinizing Gimli's driver's license, commenting on the picture, his birthday, even the color of his eyes. “Looks real enough,” he said at last. When he handed it back, Legolas wondered if his eyes didn't linger on Gimli's just a fraction too long. “Do you have a King's Kard? It could save you up to twenty percent off your – ”

His words broke off suddenly, his blue eyes going wide. 

“Nyah,” Gimli said, gesturing for Éomer to continue ringing them up.

“Big night, then?” Apparently the surprise had worn off quickly.

“Shut up,” Gimli drawled easily, handing over a few bills when the total amount blinked on the digital display. 

“Come again soon,” Éomer said as he handed Gimli the change. Legolas narrowed his eyes, not at all sure if that was just Éomer's way of being drug-store polite or if he was teasing them. Then he dropped the bag of condoms into Legolas's hand. “And often,” he added with a smirk. Or a leer. Frankly, on Éomer Éadig, Legolas couldn't tell the difference.

He looked over at his boyfriend, but Gimli seemed to be biting back a smile. Resting his hand on Gimli’s back, Legolas guided him out of the store. The sooner they left, the sooner they could get back to Gimli’s place.

And then. He felt his face flush as he put the borrowed helmet over his head.

“I would have thought that after six weeks' worth of detentions you two would be sick of each other's company.” The scratchy voice demanded Legolas's attention. It was Gandalf, locking his car doors.

“Not so much,” Gimli answered, the suppressed grin from before finally materializing on his face. “I meet all my friends in detention. That's why I'm there so much – networking.”

The old man crossed his arms and smiled. “And you, Legolas Thrandulion?” he asked, his blue eyes sparkling. “Were you turning your punishment into pleasure as well?”

Never in his life had Legolas been so grateful that his face was covered. As it was, he couldn't answer – his surprise caught in his throat and choked him. Gimli chuckled as he dissolved into a coughing fit. He didn't hear how Gimli answered, but in another moment Gandalf was disappearing into the store. Gimli straddled the motorcycle and beckoned Legolas with a tilt of his head.

“You don't suppose Gandalf knows, too?” he wondered aloud, throwing a leg over the bike. It turned out that Éomer _wasn't_ the last guy on earth Legolas wanted to know anything about his sex life.

Gimli laughed. “And so what if he does?” he asked. He settled his own helmet over his head and started the engine. As it roared to life, he twisted around to look Legolas in the eye. “I don't care if the whole world knows how I feel about you!” he yelled over the noise.

They started moving a moment later, causing Legolas to simultaneously grip the drug-store bag and wrap his arms around Gimli's waist. He slid closer, leaning his hips snugly against Gimli's backside. It was a tantalizing experiment in what friction and vibration and Gimli Glóinsson could do to him, one that Legolas wouldn't mind repeating again and again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Closer" in this section is The Indigo Girls' "Closer to Fine", which I think Legolas and Gimli are moving toward...
> 
> Special thanks to Telemachus, who got us thinking that maybe writing more would be fun. :)


	3. Chapter 3

The rumbling of the engine came to an abrupt stop and Gimli flicked down the kickstand. This was it, Legolas realized. He loosened his grip around Gimli's torso and pulled himself off of the bike. There were no other vehicles in the driveway, and he tried to remember if there had been when they left, tried to quell his excitement in case they really weren't alone yet.

“Brakes need replaced,” Gimli murmured to himself. He pulled off his helmet and set it on the wide seat. “I guess I'll fix 'em this weekend.”

“I'll help,” Legolas offered, grinning. He'd never fixed the brakes on anything before, but he was already imagining Gimli in a greasy tank top, his wild hair tamed with some kind of bandana. He imagined a hot day, watching Gimli peel off the shirt. For an instant he was vaguely ashamed of himself. Why did every stray thought of Gimli end up in sex? He glanced at the pharmacy bag in his fist. Because they hadn't done it yet.

He slid the borrowed helmet off his head and placed it next to Gimli's. “Shall we?” he asked, gesturing to the front door.

With a nod that looked alarmingly grim, Gimli led the way up the path to the porch. “I think Mom's already left with Aunt Dís,” he said over his shoulder. When they entered the house – much warmer and cozier than Legolas's own home – he called out to her, but there was no answer. “Perfect,” he said, sharing a conspiratorial glance with Legolas.

“So we're home alone,” Legolas said, taking Gimli's hand and lacing their fingers.

“Yeah.” His voice cracked, like the nerves that hadn't been present throughout their entire shopping ordeal were showing up now. Legolas smiled to himself, feeling like he'd just learned something about his new boyfriend. He wasn't afraid of being judged for what they planned to do, but it seemed like he was timid about the act itself. Legolas wondered if maybe that wasn't the healthier way to look at the world.

“We don't have to,” he said again. He hadn't been told that, the first time he'd done anything with a boy. And as much as he wanted to be with Gimli, he wanted to make sure it was good – absolutely incredible – for both of them.

“I know we don't,” Gimli replied gruffly, not looking up at him. “But I want to. And I'm pretty sure you do, too.” His free hand brushed against the front of Legolas's jeans – almost like an accident but clearly not. Well, of course he wanted to, if Gimli was going to be teasing like that.

Legolas grasped that hand and turned so that they faced each other. He leaned down, rested his forehead on Gimli's. Dark eyes peered up at him, curious and eager. “I just want you to be ready,” Legolas told him. “Guys pretend it's not, but sex is kind of a big deal.” Especially when you cared, when you couldn't afford to screw it up and jeopardize the chance of being together for a long, long time.

“Let's go upstairs,” Gimli said softly, squeezing his hands. They climbed the stairs quietly, almost as though they were sneaking past parents rather than home alone. “I'm glad you think it's a big deal,” he mumbled as they reached the top landing.

Legolas kissed him. “Damn, Gimli. Just being able to _touch_ you is a big deal.” Gimli flushed and Legolas couldn't resist kissing him again. It was nice, standing on a lower step so they could be the same height. 

"Come on," Gimli replied gruffly, pulling Legolas down the hall and into his bedroom.

It was the same room they'd been in just an hour before – low furniture, dark walls, collages and strange Gimli-art everywhere – but it felt different this time around. Gimli turned on the stereo and pressed a button; the CD changer whirred, switching from one disc to the next.

"I thought they stopped making those ten years ago," Legolas said. "Are you some kind of hipster? Too good for MP3s?"

Gimli chuckled. "I like CDs. Something substantial to hold." He pressed play and a harsh, decades-old industrial rock song came out of the speakers. 

"Maybe I'll get you vinyl for your birthday," Legolas said with a smile. Gimli looked up at him, surprised but not displeased, and Legolas flushed. He recalled that Gimli had just had a birthday, which meant his comment assumed they'd still be together a year from now. Legolas liked that idea, liked taking it for granted that they'd have a whole year, and maybe even another year after that. 

He dropped the drugstore bag on the nightstand next to a nearly-filled ashtray, and fished his keys out of his pocket. More than once he'd had the painful experience of rolling onto a set of keys in bed. He sat down, unsure what to do next. He guessed he had to take the lead, though the idea made him anxious. He used his heel to pry one shoe off, trying not to draw attention to the movement if he could help it. There was something awkwardly deliberate about taking off shoes before sex.

“What's this?” Gimli bent over to pick something up from the floor. It was a folded scrap of notebook paper. “A poem?” he asked, incredulous.

Legolas felt his face burn. “It's just some lyrics – a song I've had in my head lately,” he explained. It must've fallen out of his pocket; he fought the impulse to snatch it back. He often jotted down song lyrics that resonated with him, but these were particularly – expressive. There's no way Gimli wouldn't know they were about him. About them.

Gimli's eyes flicked back to the page." ' _All you think of lately is getting underneath me/All I dream of lately is how to get you underneath me/Here comes the heat before we meet a little bit closer...._ ' Did you write this?”

“No way!” Nervous laughter bubbled up. Leave it to the guy to pinpoint exactly the most embarrassing lines. “I can't write like that. It's Tegan and Sara.”

An eyebrow arched on Gimli's face. He looked back at the lyrics, and as his lips curved into a smile, Legolas forgot to be self-conscious. It wasn't like he wanted to hide his feelings, after all. Maybe Tegan and Sara could say what he didn't know how.

“So you've been thinking about this for a while?” Gimli asked at last.

He had been thinking about it since their first kiss. Since before that. He nodded.

“Me, too.” Gimli's voice was husky and for a long moment they looked at each other, not moving. Legolas was barely breathing. Then Gimli grinned, kicking off his Vans and sitting down next to him.

Legolas wasn't going to over think it. He wasn't going to think at all. He leaned across the space between them and kissed Gimli. His mouth gave way immediately, his eyes flickering closed an instant before Legolas closed his own. The familiar need rose up inside him, all the fiercer for knowing where this would end up.

His hands journeyed down Gimli's back, skimming the bare skin where his shirt pulled up before finding the thicker fabric at his hips. He slid his hand down the gap of his jeans.

“Um.” And suddenly Gimli had disengaged entirely. He looked miserable – twitchy and guilty all at once. He wiped his hands on his jeans, not looking at Legolas. “I need a sec,” he mumbled.

"It'll be okay," Legolas told him. "It's just me."

"That's supposed to be reassuring?" Gimli gave a short bark of laughter. "You've got tons more experience than me in all of this."

"Not _tons_!" 

"Okay, well, it's still more than me. You've been in relationships before." He looked warily up at Legolas. When he spoke, his voice was meeker than it had ever been before. "What if I'm no good at this?"

"You'll be fine." Legolas leaned his forehead against Gimli's, staring hard into his dark eyes. "If the way you kiss is any indication, you'll be better than fine." Gimli's kisses were incredible. He was a force of nature, taking everything he wanted from Legolas and leaving him feeling helpless and weak-kneed and so incredibly grateful that a guy like Gimli could be into him.

Turned on by the mere mention of kissing, Legolas slipped forward to steal one. This was the easy part. Gimli took over the kiss hungrily, and Legolas was glad to relinquish control. He loved the way Gimli overpowered him, the way he grabbed and shoved. The way he tipped him back into those impossibly-soft sheets.

The bed smelled like him, and it made Legolas dizzy with longing. For a long moment the younger boy looked down at him as though he'd just found a treasure and was wondering how to haul it home. Then Gimli pressed down onto him, their bodies maddeningly close. Hands tore at clothing and tangled in long hair and Legolas caught Gimli's lower lip in his teeth. He pressed one knee against the hardness between his boyfriend's legs, relishing the resulting shudder.

Gimli had somehow managed to strip away Legolas's shirt – he noticed it, blue and crumpled, from the corner of his eye – and suddenly his mouth was where only his hands had ever been. He tasted his skin, running his tongue around sensitive nipples while his hands slid around him to trace the curve of his spine as Legolas arched closer.

It was somehow going both slower and faster than Legolas had expected. Gimli's touches had none of the let's-get-down-to-it efficiency of Glorfindel's, and yet even as he lingered over his kisses, Legolas was surprised at the lack of hesitation.

It made him want to speed things up.

In one smooth motion, Gimli's shirt was deposited on the floor next to their shoes and Legolas pushed back, flipping them both so that he straddled his boyfriend. He looked him over once, adoring absolutely everything, from the curls that escaped his plait to the sweet little dimple of his belly button.

Legolas slid off the bed, falling to his knees between Gimli's bent legs. He leaned over to plant a kiss just below his navel, letting his chest skim the heat in Gimli's jeans. Just enough to tease.

“Wha –” Gimli tensed, the muscles of his abdomen hardening under Legolas's hands. He sat up, his eyes bright.

The blond grinned at him. “There are some very tasty things down here,” he explained wickedly, sliding his fingers into Gimli's waistband and popping the first button. He flicked his tongue over the tiny mark where the metal button had pressed against his skin.

Gimli gasped. “How many?” he asked suddenly, his voice desperate.

Legolas's fevered brain didn't understand the question. “Huh?”

“Before me.” Gimli's face went scarlet. “How many?”

What an awful question. Not wholly unexpected, but not at all what Legolas wanted to be thinking of just then, with his fingers on the buttons of Gimli's fly. “In what way?” he asked slowly, drawing back just enough to look up at him squarely. He hoped Gimli didn't think he was hedging. More like, narrowing the scope of the question.

“More than kissing,” the other boy answered at once. Legolas realized that he must've looked reluctant because Gimli quickly amended. “More than ... hands.

“Four,” he answered. Too quickly?

“Four?” Gimli's voice was weak.

Two were intoxicated blow jobs given to strangers at concerts. Not his proudest moments, to be sure, but it wouldn't be fair not to own up to them. One was a boy from his class he'd met up with a half-dozen times – a boy who still insisted he was straight. “Only two ever touched me,” he qualified.

Gimli took a moment to process this, his face inscrutable. “And.” His mouth twisted nervously. “All the way?”

“Only one.” He didn't want to say the name, even though it seemed to hang in the air between them.

“Glorfindel.” It wasn't a question, but Legolas nodded anyway. Gimli's mouth set itself into a grim line and for a moment he seemed to be considering. It wasn't exactly new information, but Legolas could see that the confirmation was hard to take.

After a few heartbeats, Gimli nodded. “Okay then,” he said, his voice soft. “I'll have to work on that, then.”

“On what?” Legolas was almost afraid to ask.

Gimli's hand reached out to smooth Legolas's hair from his temple. “Finding a way to be your first. At something.”

The breath caught in Legolas's throat. Gimli was definitely being the first at something at that very moment, but Legolas didn't know how to say it, how to define it. All he knew is that he had never – not in his whole life – felt the way Gimli was making him feel right then.

He didn't say a word – wasn't sure he could if he tried – and focused instead on the row of buttons on Gimli's fly. Gimli made a noise that wasn't a protest as Legolas moved his hands up to his hips, easing the jeans down. His eyes were on the bulge beneath Gimli's boxers, but he forced himself to keep pulling until he could toss the jeans onto their ever-growing pile of clothing.

And now Legolas was nervous. He bit back a chuckle at his own foolishness, pressing his lips to Gimli's belly instead, distracting them both so that he could dispense of the boxer shorts as well. He wanted to look at Gimli, to take in his whole body and memorize it, but he figured that would make his boyfriend skittish. Instead, he reached out a hand to touch him.

Gimli sucked in a breath. “This is okay?” Legolas asked softly.

Gimli nodded.

He tasted amazing. Like salt and honey.

"O-oh." It was between a breath and a moan, and reminded Legolas that this was something Gimli had only dreamed of before. This was the reality, and he wanted to make sure it was even better than imagination. 

"Should I stop?" he asked, pulling away momentarily.

"Don't you dare," Gimli replied through gritted teeth, followed by a string of nonsensical swears. It sounded amazing.

But a moment later, Gimli's hands were on Legolas's shoulders, pushing him back. “Aw, fuck,” he was saying. “Waitasec.”

Legolas looked up at him, confused until Gimli reached for something on the nightstand. There was a rustle of a bag. Shit, he'd forgotten the condoms.

As Gimli's trembling hands ripped open the foil package, Legolas tried to apologize. “No,” Gimli insisted, refusing to hear him. “I didn't remember either. Better late than never, though.”

“Does that even apply to this situation?” Legolas wondered.

“We're going to assume it does,” Gimli said. His voice left no room for argument.

There was the unavoidable awkwardness that came with condoms – even pretty red ones that smelled sweetly of strawberries – but Legolas refused to let it throw off their mood. He reached for Gimli’s hips and went back to business. Ah, what a glorious business.

“It’s okay?” Gimli gasped. “The flavor?”

It was different, certainly. Glycerin and latex with a less-than-desirable amount of manufactured strawberry. Not unpleasant, exactly, but also not what he’d imagined when fantasizing about Gimli for the past weeks. He’d never given a blow job with a condom before. Which, in of itself, pretty much justified Gimli’s insistence on using one. He pulled back long enough to give a half-assed answer, his focusing instead on the way Gimli's blunt fingers gripped Legolas's forearms. It almost hurt. Legolas wanted to give him every reason to continue doing that.

And he wasn't bad at this, or so he'd been told. And Gimli's face – the way his eyes lost their focus, the way the air hissed from between his teeth when he exhaled – showed him it was true. He was getting into it himself, feeling more aroused at every jerk and moan he elicited. 

“I want to kiss you,” Gimli rasped, tugging at his arms. Legolas allowed himself to be hauled up – his naked chest skimming a delicious path across Gimli's equally-bare body – and found himself on the receiving end of crushing kiss. Gimli rolled over on top of him, grinding his hips close while Legolas silently cursed the jeans he still wore. And then Gimli's hands were in his hair: pulling, tearing. It was like every nerve in his body was on the top of his head. 

“Holy shit, Gim,” he swore. “I can't even –” Gimli's mouth was on his again; Legolas forgot what he was trying to say.

This was vastly different from his own first time – he'd been hesitant. Shy. Terrified that the boy he was kissing was only setting him up for some kind of nasty joke. Gimli was a force of nature. It was like he knew exactly what he wanted and was determined to get it. 

Legolas imagined him fucking.

“I need to –” and he didn't even remember the word for it, so he gestured down to where their hips were trying to melt together. “Finish you,” he managed. “Don't wanna waste that condom.”

This time, Gimli's hands didn't cling to his arms. His fingers were in Legolas's hair, caressing his neck, stroking his shoulders and back. He leaned forward, curling down around Legolas in the search for more skin to touch and caress. He found a particularly sensitive spot behind the ears, making Legolas shudder and moan softly. 

“Damn, Legs,” Gimli said unsteadily. “I didn't know it could – I mean, it's nothing like –”

The rasp in his voice, the unfocused meander of his words all told Legolas that Gimli was close. He redoubled his efforts, moving faster, pushing his tongue more solidly against the most sensitive portions of the boy's anatomy. And then, when he was almost there, when Gimli fell back against the pillows, gasping, Legolas began to hum.

It was something he'd learned from a stranger, actually – an older man who gave orders throughout the entire experience. But it worked. The vibrations of the humming were just enough to send Gimli over the edge. He spasmed, bucking his hips and crying out. Legolas kept his mouth working, determined to keep the feeling going for as long as possible. He regretted the need for a condom the most right then, wondering what Gimli tasted like and knowing he would miss the bittersweet reminder of him in the flavor that would linger for hours in his mouth. 

As Gimli lay catching his breath, Legolas crawled up the bed and nestled himself close against his body. 

“I can't believe we just did that,” Gimli said softly, one finger stroking Legolas's face. 

Legolas laughed softly. “We're gonna do that so much, you'll get sick of me,” he promised.

Gimli blinked. “Don't see that happening,” he said bluntly, and Legolas kissed him, unable to think of any better way to express the rush of emotion he was feeling. It had never been like this for him. Usually this part was messy and awkward and then they went back to whatever they'd been doing before the sexual urge hit them: video games, homework. Sometimes this was the point when Legolas would grab his stuff and go home. Even when he wanted to stick around, Glorfindel often found some reason why he couldn't.

But Gimli wrapped his arms around him and burrowed closer. “You still have your pants on,” he noted sheepishly. “I've been a bad date.”

“Not this time,” Legolas teased. “This has been my best date ever.”

“Let's make it even better.” There was a smile in Gimli's voice and his fingers reached for the front of Legolas's jeans.

“We don't have to,” Legolas told him, catching Gimli's hand and bringing it up to his mouth for a kiss. “It doesn't have to be about reciprocity,” he explained. “It's cool if it's just you, this time.” He didn't want to rush him into anything, didn't want to change what might've been a great first-time memory into something colored by frustration or awkwardness.

The other boy's eyes narrowed. “Are you saying you don't want to?” he asked.

No. Legolas shook his head. “Gods, Gim, I want _everything_ with you. I just don't want to rush you.”

A relieved sigh took the tension from Gimli's shoulders. He leaned in close, so their foreheads were touching, a lock of his curly hair falling over Legolas's cheek. “Good,” he whispered fiercely, their eyes locked. “'Cause I need you inside me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As stated in the chapter, this time it's "Closer", by Tegan and Sara, driving the fic-title. :)


	4. Chapter 4

Nobody was good in bed the first time. Nobody except Gimli Glóinsson, apparently.

They were both naked – Legolas could barely remember wiggling out of his jeans and underwear – and Gimli had him pinned. One of his hands was twisted in Legolas's hair, hard enough to hurt. His other hand was on Legolas's hip, his nails undoubtedly pressing tiny crescents into his skin. Legolas couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so good.

He pushed his hips up again and again, pressing his tender flesh against Gimli's even as their mouths played out a delicious battle for dominance. He'd thought that he would be in control, at least this first time, but Gimli apparently had other ideas. Not that Legolas minded. Each push and tug and nip was maddening, driving him closer to the edge. His whole body ached to submit completely, but his instincts told him that Gimli would prefer a bit of a struggle, the barest hint of a fight. Besides, it was fun to demand, fun to shove back.

“Lemme get the lube,” Gimli whispered, his face, already pink from exertion, flushing redder.

Legolas tried not to protest as his weight lifted away. Cool wisps of air from the ceiling fan chilled his sweat-soaked skin. They'd been wrestling – and grinding and kissing – for a while now, and he took a moment to catch his breath.

There was a rustle of plastic and then Gimli rolled back, kissing Legolas's nose as he slipped the small bottle into his hand. “You sure you want me to do this?” Legolas asked, sitting up.

Gimli looked incredulously at him, his eyes bright. “Damn, Legs. Do you know how much I've imagined you doing this? Hell, yeah, I want it.”

A wave of urgent desire broke over Legolas. He popped open the bottle and squeezed some of the slick stuff over his fingers. “'Cause we can do it the other way, if you want.”

“Is that what you want?”

Legolas shuddered. Yes, please. But he wanted it the other way, too. He wanted it every way possible, and maybe even some ways he hadn't thought of yet. He wanted to be with Gimli until they were too old to manage it anymore. Every day. Twice. “I want whatever you want,” he told his boyfriend. “I want you to be sure.”

Gimli held Legolas's face in his hands and kissed him hard. “I'm sure I want you to fuck me, you daft boy,” he growled with a grin.

And that was all it took. From this point onward, it would be difficult for Legolas to stop, actually. His whole body screamed go. Hard. Fast. Messy. But somewhere in Legolas's mind, he remembered that this part could be stressful. Even alarming. He kissed Gimli as gently as he could manage, trying to show him that it wasn't just sex with them. “You know I'm crazy about you, right?” he asked softly.

The younger boy gave a lopsided smile. “Yeah.”

Legolas's heart thumped hard. They were really gonna do this.

Gimli was tight. At first Legolas wasn't sure it was going to work. “Relax,” he whispered close against Gimli's ear. “I don't want to hurt you.”

A sharp exhale was his only answer, but slowly, Gimli relaxed. His short, tense sounds became longer, lower, and Legolas was able to slip a second finger inside him. He moved in a steady, gentle rhythm and soon Gimli was unconsciously matching it, his hips rocking, his body tensing and relaxing. His mouth on Legolas's changed from searching to demanding, his hunger building as the tempo increased.

“I think I'm ready,” Gimli murmured against Legolas's collarbone.

“Not yet,” Legolas said, wanting to be sure. They had time to do it right.

A minute later, Gimli had a fistful of Legolas's hair. “Please,” he ground out. He pulled the hair, but not nearly as hard as Legolas expected him to. “Legolas, I need you.”

“Okay.” He started to pull his hand away. “Easy,” he warned. “We have to do this carefully.”

Gimli groaned at the slow withdraw, his brow furrowing in a mixture of pleasure and pain. “God, Legs,” he cried.

“I know,” Legolas said, kissing him hard. “It's not like anything else, is it?” He shifted on the bed, reaching for the box of non-flavored condoms. He slid one over himself and added a generous amount of the lubricant. “So,” and they were back to the awkward part, “how do you want to do this?”

He'd expected another _what-do-you-want?-whatever-_ you _-want_ conversation. He'd expected Gimli to ask him what was best. What he wasn't expecting was to be shoved backward onto the bed. Gimli flung one leg over him and smiled down, his hair cascading over one shoulder in a disheveled braid. “This okay?” he asked.

Legolas was barely able to nod his astonished consent when the CD changed suddenly. The staccato static beat of a familiar '90s industrial rock song filled the room. Legolas raised his eyebrows at Gimli as the song filled the room with lurid suggestions: _You let me penetrate you/you let me complicate you._

For a second it looked like he might blush, but Gimli grinned wickedly instead. “Forgot this one was in there,” he said, his voice hoarse.

It wasn't the song Legolas would have chosen for this moment – Trent Reznor's explicit lyrics replaced anything he'd been thinking. About being careful. About going slowly. He wanted to grab, to bite. He wanted to flip Gimli over and take him hard.

“Legolas?” Gim's voice was suddenly unsteady.

And it was clear he needed help. “Easy,” Legolas said, tenderness flooding him at the nervous look that had taken over Gimli's face. Together they eased together, Gimli lowering himself slowly, Legolas murmuring encouragement.

Legolas held himself painfully still as Gimli got used to it, his breath coming in short, excited bursts across Legolas's face. He was crazy tight, and Legolas was wound up more than usual. He was afraid that he would be too quick, that it would be over before it got good for Gimli. “Okay?” he asked hoarsely.

Gimli closed his eyes and nodded. He swallowed hard, like he wanted to speak but couldn't. Legolas wanted to kiss him so badly, but he was afraid to move just yet. Afraid that any jostle might damage.

“Wait till you feel like moving,” he encouraged in a low voice. “Let me know if it hurts.”

“Hurts,” Gimli grunted softly. “But good, too. Mostly good.” He moved then, a careful rocking of his hips that sent waves of pleasure through Legolas. Through Gimli, too, judging by the tiny sounds that came from low in his throat. He rocked again, and Legolas moved his hips up to meet him.

“I can't believe you're letting me do this.” Legolas reached up to Gimli's face, sweeping his fingers across his sweat-dampened brow, his thumb brushing his long, dark lashes.

Gimli looked at him, steady but incredulous. “Letting you?” he asked, a harsh laugh in his voice. “I practically begged you.”

As if Gimli would ever have to beg. Legolas was pretty sure that, from this point onward, all it would take was a suggestive glance and a moderately private location. He had no illusions about that.

They moved faster now, but still careful, not the forceful, percussive fucking that Legolas longed for. There would be time for that, he reminded himself. Today was all about the boy above him. “Do you know how many times a guy I was into actually liked me back?” he asked.

His look was almost comical. _Dozens_ , it said.

“One,” Legolas told him.

“Before me?”

“One,” Legolas repeated. “All together.” Legolas had had crushes. Sometimes intense crushes. He'd fixate on a boy and then do everything in his power to get his attention, to see if, by some grace of the universe that boy was also gay and miraculously into Legolas, too. It never happened.

Until now.

“What about – ” Legolas stopped his question with a kiss. He wasn't going to let Gimli say that name.

“Not even him.” He hadn't been into Glorfindel at first. He’d been pursued, and that had been flattering enough to pique his interest. “Just you,” he said. He wanted to bring the topic back to Gimli. Back to _them_.

“So I'm the –” Gimli's thought seemed to fall apart as Legolas thrust up, deeper than before. His words tumbled into a more primal sound.

_The first_. He was the first for so many things, but this was the only one Legolas could articulate. It was the only one that he thought he could make Gimli would understand. And he did understand it. He fisted the sheets on either side of Legolas's head and rocked hard against him, lifting up on his knees so that he came down with more fervor than before. Legolas's eyes fluttered closed. He was barely hanging on before – this building of momentum was going to end him.

They continued to move against each other; conversation devolved into random, misplaced words rather than coherent thoughts as their pleasure mounted. Legolas was getting closer and closer to the brink. His hands scrambled for grip on Gimli's sweaty shoulders. He was desperate for eye contact, for kissing and bodies pressed together.

“You're close?” Gimli's voice was scratchy and low.

Legolas nodded. He was trying to wait. Trying to get Gimli there, too. But. Too tight. Too good.

The younger boy leaned down, his chest pressing the air from Legolas's lungs. He put his mouth on Legolas's jaw, nipped up toward his ear. “Come in me,” he whispered. Gimli's teeth grazed Legolas's earlobe, the tip of his tongue catching on the hoop earring he wore and tugging it.

There was no more holding back. It wasn't possible. Legolas cried out, his body spasming, his hips thrusting hard – too hard? – into Gimli's.

When Legolas's vision cleared, when the delicious waves finally subsided, Gimli was grinning down at him, wolfishly.

“You look smug,” Legolas managed, still gasping.

“You look incredible.” Gimli lifted a lock of his hair, wound it around his fingers. “I can't believe I was able to make you – That I had anything to do with – ” His grin faltered, revealing an incredulous vulnerability that made Legolas's insides turn to jelly.

“You had everything to do with this,” he promised. “But you didn’t finish.”

“Not important,” Gimli said, carefully lifting himself from Legolas. “I did earlier. It’s all good.”

“You sure?” Legolas removed the condom and dropped it into the trash can next to the bed. With two used condoms, dozens of cigarette butts and several plastic bags that had likely once been filled with weed, it was a parent’s nightmare. He rolled back over to look at his boyfriend, who was grinning up at the sloped ceiling.

“I’m sure. We’ve got the whole summer to do this.”

“Just the summer?” His stomach twisted into the painful knot he hadn’t felt in weeks.

“Well, yeah. Then you’re going to Minas Ithil with Tauriel, right?”

A wave of relief washed over Legolas. “Yeah. I am.”

“I s’pose I’ll have to play nice in school and not get detentions next year, if I’m going to visit you every weekend,” Gimli said, rolling onto his side to look at Legolas.

Weekends. Legolas wasn't sure how he'd manage, seeing Gimli only on weekends.

But they had all summer first. Legolas smirked and moved so they were both facing each other. He hooked his arm around Gimli's shoulder, tugging him close. “Do you think you can manage that? I mean, you're the only person I've ever met who had his own seat in detention.”

“I didn’t care,” Gimli said with a one-armed shrug. “And now I do. A lot.”

“Best thing I’ve heard all day,” Legolas replied. It wasn’t entirely true, but it was almost as nice as gasps and moans and whispered instructions about where and when he was allowed to come. He leaned close and brushed a kiss across Gimli's mouth.

“What if I told you that I loved you?” Gimli asked, his voice less assured than usual. 

Legolas grinned. “Okay, _that’s_ the best thing I’ve heard,” he amended. “Because I love you, too.”

And then he was on his back again, his boyfriend smiling down at him. Legolas wondered if he looked even a fraction as gleeful as Gimli did. He must. Happiness must radiate from him like a beacon. And the best part was that this was just the beginning. Wherever they ended up, they had taken only one step on that journey, only one step closer to whatever life had in store for them. Legolas wrapped his arms around Gimli, pressing his face against his neck and shoulder in a tight hug. He didn't know for certain – he couldn't – but if that moment were any indication, the future they were stepping toward had a place for them both. Together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, as stated in the fic, the last "Closer" song for them is by Nine Inch Nails, which was really good inspiration for some aspects of this story... :)


End file.
